Oscar- Hutt River (year 11, age 15)

Michael- Molossia (year 11, age 15)

Salvatorio- Seborga (year 11, age 15)

Charlie- Wy (year 8, age 12)

Peter- Sealand (year 9, age 13)

Lars- Ladonia (year 9, age 13)

Franz- Kugelmugel (year 9, age 13)

Kuzey- TRNC (year 10, age 14)

Taika- fem!Finland

Astrid- fem!Sweden

Logan- Australia

...

Oscar groaned dramatically as he packed his books and folders away, pulling his bulging rucksack onto one shoulder and leaving the classroom behind. It was his first detention- ever- and Oscar mentally cursed himself for spoiling his perfect record. Five years at high school and he ruined it in his last year; what will his brother say? Oh yeah, Logie would probably just pat him on the back- really hard- and laugh, claiming Oscar was becoming as bad as he was at school. Yeah right, thought Oscar to himself; he would need to get detention every day for the rest of the year to even come close to beating Logan's phenomenal record. Of course, that had been back in Australia, when Logie had still been a carefree teen. Back before the problems started…

Nevertheless, when he'd enrolled Oscar into this particular high school, the teachers had taken one look at the oldest Cooper sibling and decided he was trouble, and that Oscar must be too, despite how little they resembled each other. It was probably why, when he first arrived at the school as a tiny, terrified teen, the teachers kept a close eye on him to make sure he didn't get into any trouble, and when his little sister joined last year they gave her the same treatment. Still, that had been all in the past, and he'd proven them wrong many times in the past years. Until now, that is.

Were normal teens usually this cut up about getting a detention?

Trotting briskly through whitewashed corridors and noisy staircases, Oscar made his way down to the school hall; it wouldn't be good for him to be late, lest the teachers make him come back the next day too. An hour after school on a Thursday was bad enough; being forced to stay late on Friday too would just be pure torture. He reached the school hall and entered with as much dignity as he could muster.

The large room contained a wooden stage at one end and flimsy exam desks down the middle. There were two rows of the things, side by side, and, sitting in blue plastic chairs, were a group of little year eights and nines, his sister among them.

"Oh, Charlotte," he exclaimed, "what did you do this time?"

"Nothing," spat his sister, turning around to glare at him, "and it's Charlie to you, not Charlotte; seriously, no one calls me Charlotte anymore." The last part was added in an angry mutter.

"Turn around, Charlotte," came the shrill voice of the teacher, who was standing in front of the stage holding a register. Oscar jumped slightly, slipping into one of the seats at the back; he had not seen her there. Charlie rolled her eyes and turned to face the front.

As the teacher seemed to be waiting on a few others before starting her detention, Oscar took the opportunity to people watch from his vantage point at the back, taking in the different kids sitting in the front rows. They all appeared to be around the same age as his sister, and all boys, at least he guessed they were, judging by the uniforms.

There were two boys at the back of the group, two rows in front of him and whispering quietly to each other. From what he could see, they didn't look related; one had sandy blond hair and, when he turned to face the other boy, Oscar noticed he had bushy eyebrows above deep blue eyes; the other boy was ginger, with eyes a lighter shade of blue and what appeared to be a large scar on his face, though upon closer inspection, he realised it was fake, and quite crudely drawn. The second one appeared to be pretty upset with the first one, who just smiled cheerily, and Oscar guessed that the first boy blamed his friend for landing them in detention, but you never know…

The row in front of them contained his sister and another boy; well, they wore a boy's uniform, but had long silvery hair tied in two plaits running down their back. They didn't turn around so Oscar couldn't see their face. Right in the front sat a boy by himself. His hair was dark and when he turned around to talk to his peers, Oscar saw that he had light brown eyes, which never seemed to stray from Charlie for long, much to Oscar's irritation.

Another boy poked his head in the door, grinning apologetically.

"Err, sorry miss," he said, "I was talking to this lovely girl about some homework due tomorrow and I quite forgot the time."

"Again, Salvatorio?" the teacher shook her head, "just sit down."

"Thank you," the boy, Salvatorio, slipped in beside Oscar, much to the latter's irritation. He was a cheerful fellow, with brownish-auburn hair that flopped down messily, covering the sides of his head, except for a weird little curl sticking out at the side. Bright green eyes gleamed through his fringe as he smiled. Oscar recognised him from some of his classes and they had even talked on a few occasions; he wasn't a bad person, just a little odd, and maybe a bit too affectionate for the other boy's liking.

"Well we're waiting on one more," the teacher told them, "then we can start."

Oscar suspected who the last person was and as the door flew open and a figure stomped into the room, huffing and plopping into a seat in front of him, Oscar knew he was right. The seat was filled by Mike Jones: Oscar's foul-mouthed, bad-tempered classmate from America. They were in the same form, business studies, science and maths classes and Oscar detested the loud, vulgar young man.

"And what's your excuse this time?" demanded the teacher.

"Forgot," mumbled Mike.

"Not good enough Michael," the teacher folded her arms, "unless you want to spend all your days writing lines after school, then you better buck up your ideas, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," mumbled Mike; "yes miss," he added, louder so she could hear him.

"Good. Now, you all know what to write." She spoke to the entire group, "and you will not be leaving until you have handed in one hundred lines. You may begin."

The sound of pens, pencils and biros scraping on paper filled the air and Oscar settled down to write his lines: I must not answer back. Over and over again, his expensive fountain pen glided across the paper, each line destroying a little more of Oscar's soul.

He heard the hall doors open quietly and looked up, absent-mindedly watching another teacher walk across the room in that weird run-trot-walk that teachers in heels do and whisper urgently to the teacher giving the detention.

"Excuse me class," she told them, "I have to go for a few minutes. No one is to talk or get up, understand?" Then she left.

The second she was gone, Mike stretched, groaning loudly. Oscar felt his eye twitch in annoyance.

"So what are you little fuckers in for then?" he asked, leaning back in his chair, eyeing them all as if he were sizing them up.

"Forgot my homework," said the boy in the front, continuing with his lines.

"Didn't do the work set by the teacher," said the boy with the long hair, barely acknowledging everyone around him.

"Damn you little kids are rebellious nowadays," joked Mike, "what didn't you do?"

"They told me to paint fruit bowls and I painted a masterpiece instead," the boy told them, shrugging nonchalantly, "…just because the teacher thought it was inappropriate… though maybe I should've not done a nude but still... It was a masterpiece and the teacher should've known it!"

"Wow," Mike raised his eyebrows, the closest Oscar had ever seen to speechless where he was concerned, "and the rest?"

"Running and yelling in the corridors," said Charlie.

Oscar sighed dramatically, "so un-ladylike, honestly Charlotte..."

"Oy!" Charlie glared at him, "I was late for a lesson and there were people just walking slowly in a massive group so I couldn't get past… so I told them to move out the way… or something to that effect."

"Damn," Mike grinned at Charlie before turning to Oscar, "so what about you, posh boy? Complain about the food? Wore a cape to PE?"

"Actually," replied Oscar, "I proved a teacher wrong in history."

"Wha?"

Oscar sighed, "they told me the princes in the tower were twins and I tried to correct them, saying Edward was four years older than Richard, but they never believed me. I even googled it on the class computer and I was right but the teacher got offended and told me to stay behind after school."

Mike laughed thunderously, slapping the little desk and stomping his feet, "oh my God, dude, you tried to prove a teacher wrong? Damn you got balls! Who knew?"

"Well," said Oscar, "they were sabotaging an entire class' education with incorrect information and I saw it as my duty to step in."

"I like you," said Mike, grinning widely.

Feeling's not mutual, thought Oscar.

"And what about you?" asked Mike, nodding at Salvatorio.

"I, too, forgot my homework," he replied, laughing.

"And you little guys?" Mike turned to the two boys in the row in front of him.

"We might've mixed some chemicals together that shouldn't have been," replied the little blond one mischievously.

"You mixed them," the other boy shot at him, glaring, "I just happened to be next to you and the teacher blamed me too."

Mike laughed loudly again, "damn you blew up the science room? I thought that only happened in movies!"

"No," replied the ginger-haired boy, "we just burnt a little hole in one of the tables. It's barely noticeable"

"Still…"

"And what are you in for, hmm?" Oscar asked Mike, who was about to reply when the teacher returned, causing everyone to hurriedly face their desks and continue working.

…

"Ow… ow… ow…," Oscar rubbed his hand, pouting slightly.

"I swear if you don't shut up I'm gonna kick you in the nuts," growled Charlie, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket, head down and sulking.

"But I'm not used to putting such strain on my hand," whined Oscar.

Charlie stared at him in disbelief, "you have your freaking GCSEs this year! How are you going to manage a two hour English exam with actual paragraphs and shit?"

"Well, I'm just not used to detentions, never having been given one before, so sorry for not wanting to become some juvenile delinquent like you and Logan."

"If Logie was such a teen thug then how come he got a good job, huh?"

"His infectious optimism, brute strength and sense of humour?" suggested Oscar, "I don't know. You hardly need A-levels to be a zookeeper and spend all day clearing up elephant shit."

"He does something that makes him happy," Charlie shrugged, "that's enough for a job."

"I doubt that," Oscar shook his head, letting the matter drop.

"Oh, and it was my first detention too, if you must know," added Charlie.

"Fine, fine," Oscar rolled his eyes.

…

"Will you hurry up in there!" called Lars, leaning against the door frame of the newsagents where Peter was buying them a packet of crisps each. He glared at the sign next to him, the one that said 'only two schoolchildren allowed at one time' and meant he couldn't go in and get his own snacks. He wouldn't have minded, except that Peter always bought the wrong things. Airhead.

"Yeah okay," Peter called back, picking up two packets and dumping them on the counter along with a small pile of coins. He collected his change and walked outside, tossing one of the packets to Lars.

"I hate Ready-salted," he grumbled, glaring viciously at the little red bag.

"Sorry, I forgot," Peter glanced at his brother guiltily; "hey maybe next time there won't be the maximum number of children in the newsagents and you can come in too!"

"Or maybe you could get Cheese and Onion next time!"

"Okay, okay," Peter shrugged, digging into his own packet. They walked in silence for the rest of the journey home- tired and busy eating- until they saw a police car outside their house. Exchanging stunned glances, the brothers broke into a sprint, desperate to see what the fuss was about. Had they been burgled? Were their parents okay?

Standing in the front garden, in animated conversation with a stern-looking policeman, was their mother, Taika. Their other mother, Astrid, stood beside her, resting a hand on her wife's shoulder, an expression of dread gracing her usually stern face.

"It's Peter and Lars Oxenstjärna-Väinämöinen," cried Taika, "please you have to find them! They never came home from school!" She was shaking, frantic with worry and even Astrid was struggling to keep calm.

"And how do you spell their surname?'

"O-x-e-n, no, N, s-t-j… j… it's a j look just forget the name and find them please! They could be anywhere! Anything could be happening to them!"

"What's wrong?" asked Lars, pushing the front gate open.

"There you are!" Taika shrieked, pulling her sons into a crushing hug.

"Where have you been?" demanded Astrid.

"At school," Lars looked at his parents in confusion.

"We had detention," mumbled Peter.

"For an hour and a half?" Taika shook her head, "why didn't they phone us to say you were being kept behind or something? We had no idea where you were!"

"Sorry mummy," Lars glanced at his parents apologetically, "we didn't think you would worry so much."

"We'll always worry 'bout ya," replied Astrid, stroking Peter's hair and squeezing Lars' hand.

"That's all well and good," interrupted the policeman, "but I would ask you refrain from wasting our time in future."

"Wasting your time?" Taika stood up to her full height, which was only up to the policeman's shoulder but the woman still carried an intimidating air, "our children's safety is a waste of time to you? We didn't know where they were!"

"Well now you do," the policeman turned to leave, "please make absolutely sure they're missing before calling us next time."

"Yes, officer," Taika glared at the man but said nothing else. Instead, she turned around and began ushering her family inside, "boys, your Uncle Eduard's come for dinner; he's inside now."

"Yes!" cried Lars, running inside.

The other three followed the boy inside and found him in the sitting room, slouched in a desk chair next to his favourite uncle, who was sat at the computer, laughing at something his nephew had told him.

"Well, you found them, then?" asked Eduard, facing Taika and Astrid, who nodded.

"Yes it appears they were just kept behind at school," Taika sighed and Astrid stroked her hair soothingly.

"Hey, they're fine," the woman assured her, "ye can calm down now. Don't let yerself get too stressed."

"Yes, thank you dear," Taika sighed, "I know…"

"I see," Eduard pushed his glasses up his nose and turned his attention back to Lars, "so, shall we continue our lessons?"

"Yes!" replied Lars, sitting up.

"I hope you don't mind my son," Taika piped up, sitting on a sofa.

"Not at all," Eduard smiled at his older sister, "he's my best pupil! The boy's so smart, I'll be teaching him how to download films illegally in no time."

"Cool!"

"Don't you dare," growled Taika.

"Hey I'm only joking," Eduard added quickly, "you have to learn to download music first," he whispered to Lars, who burst out laughing.

…

"We're home," called Oscar, letting himself and Charlie into the house.

"About freaking time!" their older brother called back, wandering into the hall, "I arrived home before you and had a shower and everything! Seriously, what kept ya?"

"Detention," said Charlie simply.

"Both of you?" Logan scratched his head in confusion.

"Unfortunately," Oscar sighed dramatically, briefly closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.

"Well about time you loosened up!" cried Logan, giving his little brother a thump on the back, "hey our Ozzie's finally becoming an adult!"

"It's Oscar, dammit," hissed Oscar.

"Right, right," Logan led his siblings into their sitting/dining room and plopped down on the sofa, "dinner's in the oven. It's steak and chips, your favourites. I even got that nice coleslaw you like."

"Celebrating?" asked Charlie, sitting next to him.

"No," Logan shrugged, "I got paid today and wanted to treat ya."

"How nice, thanks."

Oscar stood in the doorway nervously, "umm, I had a… err, large meal today at lunch and still feel pretty full from it so I'll pass. Don't want to make myself sick."

Charlie frowned, "but you hate the school food."

"Yeah," added Logan, "you told me it wasn't fit for criminals, let alone high school kids."

"Well, the pizza's okay… I guess," Oscar looked away, "and besides, I have homework to do. And revision, for those mock exams. And I think I'm beginning to go right off steak. In fact, I was thinking of becoming vegetarian."

"Vegetarian?" Logan frowned, "not while you're living under my roof." He shook his head; "fine, but you're missing out on some quality dinner."

"I'm sure I am," replied Oscar, wandering back into the hall. He heard the doorbell ring and frowned; they never got visitors, since they didn't have much in the way of friends, and no family to speak of.

"I got it!" he called, opening it to find Salvatorio staring at him pleadingly with a football in his hands.

"Hey, err, my friends and I are playing a five-aside game with some other boys and we're one man down," the boy began, "so I was wondering it you want to join in. Please, we need you and you're the only person I know who lives close enough to the park."

"How do you even know where I live?" asked Oscar, blinking in disbelief.

"We live near each other," replied Salvatorio, "and I sometimes see you and your sister walking home."

"That's creepy don't do that."

"Sorry," Salvatorio grinned apologetically, "so are you in or what?"

"I don't know how to play football," scoffed Oscar, shaking his head. That was a lie, but he really wasn't too fond of the sport.

"I'll teach you, it's easy," Salvatorio's eyes widened and his bottom lip quivered, "please, please, please!"

Oscar groaned, "fine, I could do with the exercise."

...

So, what do you all think so far?

I made Finland and Sweden female in this because, well, I write a lot of Sufin and wanted to put a different twist on the pairing to avoid them staying the same in each fic I do of them.

Now this fic will touch on some sensitive issues, such as eating disorders, homophobia, drinking problems and bullying, so if you're not comfortable with those or find them triggering, do not continue with this story.